“And, after all, I am just one common person!” She watched the throb of the arteries in the stem of her neck, and put her hand at last gently and almost timidly to where her heart beat beneath her breast. ‘Ah, Madame Joan. Greece was a different place. The nuns had no regard for the sensibilities of a “lady” and expected Melusine— for it was her allotted task—to clean and tend the soldier’s wounds even when they festered. She decided to go on, after a momentary halt. “And you must please not look at me as though I were an executioner,” she declared lightly. ’ ‘And she’d be right,’ Martha said severely.
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